


Pangaea

by Rainbowfootsteps



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 12:42:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 9,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4961083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbowfootsteps/pseuds/Rainbowfootsteps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new nation, Antarctica, has been created. But Italy has a feeling he will cause more harm than good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note, this story does jump a little bit between nation and human names!

“Today we select the ambassadors to represent the government of the new nation of Antarctica.” America’s excited voice was tinny in the speakers as he made happy announcements to the audience. A restless buzz filled the United Nations auditorium, which had never been more full. The other nations sat behind America nervously, their bosses hovering behind them. The flags of every country in the world hung from the ceiling, from Albania to Uzbekistan. America carefully tapped the tip of his microphone to get the audience’s attention. Slowly the chatter died down.

“If I can have your attention please! We will be selecting them in alphabetical order. The leader of each respective country will then inform us of who their ambassador will be. First will be… Afghanistan!” Alfred beckoned the leader of Afghanistan, a tiny old man, forward and waved him to the microphone.  
“Our ambassador..” The old, leathery-skinned man rasped,  
“Abagull Shahnawaz.” A smattering of applause resounded around the huge hall.   
“You’d think they were announcing who’s the next pope.” Netherlands muttered to New Zealand, who shrugged.  
“I’m pretty excited about this.” He admitted, and smiled. Today was the beginning of a new country, and these chosen representatives were the future of the world.

Red Snap Dragons waved in the wind around Feliciano as he nervously held a cup of coffee on his porch. His olive skin glowed in the sunlight, and his hair was a brilliant hazel brown, The sun warmed his back, and Germany’s reassuring presence was to his left, but he still felt uneasy.  
“What’s wrong, Italy?” Germany asked him curiously. Italy jumped a little.  
“Nothing’s wrong. Why do you say that?” He replied with a short laugh.  
“You haven’t had a single sip of coffee for ten minutes.” Germany replied. He scribbled down an address on the envelope in front of him, then turned to face Italy.  
“It’s all this ‘Pangaea’ business, isn’t it?” He guessed quietly.  
“Si..” Italy mumbled.  
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea to make Antarctica a country. I mean, it’s not inhabitable, nobody would want to live there, ve. Plus Pangaea is a really bad country name...” He trailed off thoughtfully. Germany looked at him and gently nudged him with his elbow.  
“I know there’s more to it than that.” He encouraged, and Italy sighed.  
“Alright, I’m scared about the new Nation. Like, the person. Like us.” He admitted grumpily.  
“What if he’s mean? With an ambassador from every country, he would have strong military power…” Italy would have continued, but Germany cut him off.  
“That isn’t going to happen.” He stated abruptly.  
“I am absolutely sure that Pangaea is going to be kind and friendly, and a good contribution to this world.” He continued. Italy grumbled back an unintelligible reply. Germany shook his head.  
“I’m going to post this letter.” He told Italy, and stood up and started to walk away. Italy sighed. He knew he shouldn’t be worried about Pangaea, but he had a terrible gut feeling. It was probably just nothing a good meal wouldn’t fix.


	2. Chapter 2

The air in the world meeting was heavy with impatience. As the nations waited to see Antarctica, or ‘Pangaea’, for the first time, they fidgeted with increasing agitation. Even Sweden was tapping his foot at a fast pace, and the tick of the clock was loud in everybody’s ears.  
“Do you think he’s lost?” Canada suggested quietly. An obsequious Kumajiro hung near his leg, clearly being good only because she knew she’d get extra biscuits.

“Uh, hello?” A soft, pleasant voice snapped them to attention.  
“Sorry, is this the right room?” A pale, black-haired head poked around the door-frame. Pale blue eyes looked nervously around the room.  
“I’m Antarctica.” He said with a small smile, walking into the room. His accent could best be described as a mixture of canadian and australian - a strange but pleasant mix. He was wearing a fur-lined parka jacket and snow boots, which seemed completely incompatible with the current weather.

“Ah, finally!” Arthur breathed, then composed himself.  
“I’m England, also known as Arthur.” He introduced himself quickly, then beckoned to Antarctica that he should go to the front of the room and address the crowd of nations curiously waiting to learn more about this mysterious new nation. What was oddest was that he was already an adult - having been made in the span of a few short years, his growth had been rushed. They had never seen anything like it. Italy forced himself not to recoil from this strange new figure, instead hugging Germany’s arm tightly and muttering “Non mi fido di lui..” under his breath. Antarctica awkwardly shuffled up to the front of the meeting room and cleared his throat - not that he needed to get anybodies attention; all the nations were watching him curiously.

“Um,” He began, “I’m Antarctica. Some people call me Pangaea, but I like Antarctica better. It’s really nice to meet you all. I’ve already met New Zealand and Australia,” He glanced nervously at the two, who smiled back (Well, Australia made a slightly obscene gesture, but he meant well),  
“But the rest of you I hope to get to know. I can only hope that the fact that my government is made up of little snippets of all your governments brings us closer together.” He said, and brushed a stray hair out of his eye. His courage had grown throughout this speech, and by the end he sounded totally confident. 

“My friend!” Russia’s cheerful voice boomed from the back of the room.  
“I have one question, please! What is your main export?” Antarctica looked confused for a short while, but his kind smile was soon back on his face.  
“I’m afraid i’m not going to be exporting much, as my population is very small and lots of people are scientists, but there will be a small export of oil and other valuable minerals. Nothing that would damage my environment, of course - in fact, the settlers in Antarctica aim to grow the penguin population considerably.” This answer seemed to please Russia, because he nodded thoughtfully.  
Francis coughed to get attention.  
“Any more questions? No? Then since it’s a national holiday in-” He turned on his phone and furiously tapped something in, “-37 countries today, this meeting is now over!” He called. Instantly countries began to swarm out of the room, like a tidal wave of chattering insects. A few countries hung back, including Russia, New Zealand and Antarctica. Italy glanced back as he left to see Antarctica talking with New Zealand. See? He thought to himself, Antarctica is a nice guy. His unnerving gut feeling didn’t waver, however. Maybe he had indigestion.


	3. Chapter 3

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN, THE FUCKING MACHINES AREN’T FUCKING SELLING?!” Romano screamed into the phone, slamming the phone down and roaring a string of swears in italian.  
“Romano?! What is going on?!” Italy whined, moping into the room. The first weak rays of sunlight filtered in through purple-stained decorative windows, and the light blue walls and faint scent of roses made Italy think of the warm summer sky even as Romano was howling and bellowing profanities.  
“It’s 6 in the morning!” He continued, but went quiet when he saw Romano’s infuriated glare.  
“Our machinery and car exports have gone down by 65 percent.” Romano snarled.  
“But those are our main exports!!” Italy gasped. It wasn’t possible, a sudden drop in sales like that.  
“Exactly!” Romano seemed on the verge of tears, and made up for it with yelling even louder.  
“Without that money, our economy will go belly-up! WHAT THE FUCK COULD HAVE CAUSED THIS?!” Romano roared, kicking a door so violently that he left a scuff mark.   
“What are the figures?” Italy asked gently, and Romano muttered ‘check your fucking email’. Italy complied, grabbing his laptop from the kitchen counter and opening his email. A sleek ferrari picture occupied the wallpaper of his inbox, a familiar site which now made him feel sick. A message from their boss was first on the list. Italy hesitated, then clicked on the email. He gasped.  
“Holy shit…” No. This was impossible. A miscalculation, a glitch in the system, a miscommunication, something had to have gone wrong in the calculations. If these statistics were right, then it was likely that if this rate of decline kept going, the worth of the italian dollar would drop to unsavable levels in… a few months?!?

“Italy, please calm down, you’re overreacting…” Germany mumbled, petting Italy’s head as he cried next to him.  
“I- I- I can feel my economy weakening!” Italy blubbed, scrunched up so small that he barely took up any space on Germany’s black leather couch.  
“I can’t- I won’t- it’s my fault-” he trailed off into hiccuping sobs. Germany sighed heavily.  
“Italy, you know it isn’t your fault.” He said sternly.  
“I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding between your main trading partners, but until this is sorted out, i’ll make sure your german customers still buy off you. You’ll be fine…” No matter how soothing Germany tried to sound, Italy was still inconsolable.   
“Romano thinks it’s my fault..” Italy snuffled, beginning to tremble. His nose was bright red and his eyes were puffy from crying non-stop.   
“I’ll make you pasta.” Germany told him, patting his head once more before standing up and walking to the kitchen.

So small and sensitive, he thought to himself, He can’t handle financial instability of this level. He looked about in his pantry. Onions, flour - pasta. Albeit a small packet of who-knows-how-old penne, but it would have to do. He then opened his fridge and searched for some cheese. Why did he own such odd and useless foodstuffs like pickled onions and tartar sauce, but not cheese?  
“GERMANY!” A thump and Italy’s shrill scream surprised Germany, and he jumped. His hand hit a jar of gherkins and sent it smashing to the ground.  
“Italy, what is it?” Germany yelled, running into the lounge. To his shock he saw Italy curled up on the ground, whimpering.  
“Italy!” Germany swooped down to him, shaking his shoulder gently.  
“Italy, what’s wrong?!” He asked worriedly.  
“There’s nothing, Ludwig - there’s nothing-” Italy rasped, his face white and his hands shaking.  
“I can feel it in my gut, Ludwig. There’s going to be nothing left.”


	4. Chapter 4

“‘Italy’s economy goes under’, ‘italian machinery is on the way out’, ‘economic crisis in Italy imminent’...” Germany muttered the titles of the newspaper articles as he scrolled down the newspaper site on his laptop. Italy was sitting next to him, pale-faced and shivering under an orange knitted blanket. His effervescent personality was completely gone. He hadn’t slept in two days.   
“Soldi, soldi, soldi…” he muttered under his breath. Usually financial disruption wouldn’t affect a country in such a radical way - they’d feel a little ill for a day or two, but nothing worse than that. But huge changes for the worse, like the american great depression, made the affected nation rather violently sick. They would get raging fevers, they would be cold all the time, they wouldn’t be able to sleep. And if their economy got too bad….  
“Will it get better?” Italy whispered to Germany, who murmured something along the lines of ‘of course, of course’.

Prussia hovered nearby, anxiously stirring a cup of tea.  
“You guys do know why Feli’s economy is going to shit, right?” He queried, wiping a loose eyelash away from his left eye. His striking red eyes were half-closed in thought.  
“From what i’ve seen, Russia has started exporting very high quality, strangely cheap machinery and car parts. As well as this, several nations have inexplicably - heh, just learnt that word yesterday - stopped importing from Italy.” Prussia informed them. He absently patted the little yellow bird on his shoulder. Germany grunted in reply. He was skim reading article after article, his eyes flitting over words and throwing them away like cheap toys. He did this for several minutes before he made a horrified choking noise and made Prussia nearly jump out of his skin.  
“What the hell?!” Prussia snapped.  
“It’s a good thing I finished my tea, or i’d have burnt myself on it you gave me such a fright!” He grumpily put the cup down, not seeming to register how distraught Germany was.  
“We’re - we’re-” Germany spluttered,  
“We’re not importing from Italy!” He stammered. This caught Prussia’s attention, who turned to stare at him.  
“Don’t be stupid, Lud. We’re his biggest importer.” He said uneasily.  
“It’s true, Gilbert! Look at this!” Germany pointed to a mess of numbers and statistics. Seeing Prussia’s glazed over expression, he sighed impatiently.  
“Around a week ago, several of our biggest importers from Italy mysteriously stopped importing from them and instead began to import machinery and such from Russia, the united states and New Zealand for some reason.” Germany told him as he furiously scanned the numerous graphs. Italy looked at him with wide, watery eyes.  
“Ludwig… why…?” His face was that of a wounded bunny, and Germany blinked tears out of his eyes.  
“I’ll fix it.” He said firmly,  
“I’ll do everything I can to get everything back to how it was.”


	5. Chapter 5

Cold, cold, cold. Got to run and get away… Can’t run fast enough. It’s going to catch me. It’s going to catch me and chomp me up until there’s nothing left and i’ll be all alone. So cold. Maybe i’ll freeze before it can catch me. Why is it so cold? My legs feel like they’re stuck in mud. I can barely lift them. Hot breath on my neck. Oh god, it’s behind me. I can’t run. It’s leaning over me. It’s opening its jaws-

“Romano, Romano, wake up.” Spain’s concerned voice sounded distant and muffled.  
“Romano, everything’s okay. You don’t need to cry, it was only a dream.” Everything hurt. His head was hot but his body was cold. His throat burned and prickled.  
“Fuck off, Spain.” He grumbled, wiping tears off his cheeks and burrowing under his bed covers. Spain made a sort of tutting noise, and sat on the edge of the bed.  
“Listen, Ludwig found out why your, um, economy hasn’t been doing quite so well.” This got Romano’s attention, and he poked his head out from under the sheets.  
“Tell me, idiota.” He muttered.  
“Well…” Spain started, sounding hesitant.

“German companies have almost completely stopped importing Italian goods, and they’re your main export country. As well as this, Russia has been making a lot more of the things you make recently.” Spain mumbled the last sentence, but Romano’s hearing was quite unharmed, as was his anger.  
“Ivan?!” He fumed, struggling to get out of bed only to be gently pushed back by Spain.  
“Get the fuck off me, Antonio!” Romano croaked, battling against sticky bedsheets and his own weakened condition.  
“I’m going to fucking murder that bastard!” He hissed. He quickly lost energy, however, and after a moment of tussling and snarling he curled into a ball, red in the face and exhausted physically and emotionally.  
“Romano, please try to rest. We’re having an emergency meeting today about it this afternoon, but until then there’s very little we can do. What you can do is take it easy, alright?” Spain said soothingly, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off his trousers.  
“I…. get better soon, Romano.” He gently placed a kiss on Romano’s forehead, who scrunched up his eyebrows and closed his eyes but didn’t protest.  
“I’ll be back soon.”

A low, aggravated murmur filled the meeting room. Greece sat shivering under a blanket with Turkey nervously hovering near him, and America was tapping at his phone with a frown on his face. After a few minutes of milling and tense conversation, England pushed his way to the front of the room and cleared his throat.  
“Can I please get everyone’s attention!” He called with a forced smile, the uneasiness clear in his voice.   
“We’ve, um, had some trouble recently.” He began lamely. This was met by some rather colourful insults from Turkey.  
“From what we know, for as yet unexplained reasons, the sale of exports of Italy - Romano included - and Greece have significantly decreased in the span of a few hours. Also, some other economies have been facing turbulence, but fortunately they are all in good health. Germany has, I believe, got the figures with him.” With a vague hand gesture, England nodded to Germany, who blinked and turned on the meeting room’s projector. Slowly the pale image of spreadsheets materialised. Most of it was undecipherable gibberish, but a graph in the bottom left corner clearly portrayed the quickly dropping economic value of Italian and Greek goods. A ripple of unease swept through the small crowd of countries.

“Will they be alright?” Antarctica asked Spain curiously.  
“I hope so.” Was the grim reply. Antarctica nodded, looking to be deep in thought. After a second or two of this he quietly excused himself.  
“I’d like to be acquainted with Greece.” He said politely to Spain before disappearing between France and Hungary. Spain looked down at his watch. 3:37? He should get back to Romano. 

The clock determined that it was 4:12 when Spain quietly opened Romano’s bedroom door. He smiled as he saw Romano still sound asleep, drooling a little into his pillow. Spain closed the door as noiselessly as possible and went to make himself a light snack. He was heating up yesterday’s leftovers when the phone rang.  
“Hello, Italy residence, Antonio speaking!” He said cheerfully. As he listened, his smile was slowly replaced with a look of shock.  
“What do you mean he’s gone!?”


	6. Chapter 6

Cold cold cold, why is it so cold? Maybe Germany forgot to turn on the heater. Silly Ludwig. Wait. If I’m awake, why can’t I see anything? Is it night time? My face…. my eyes are covered by something? Where am I? Can I take the fabric off? No, my hands are tied to something. I can hear the growl of a motor and it feels like im in a vehicle. Where am I going? Germany? Germany, help me! Germany! I’m scared! Where are you!? I need you! I’m so frightened…

 

“There were exactly 17 minutes between when I left the world meeting at 3:46, and 4:03 when I arrived at my house.” Germany muttered, scribbling on a piece of paper.  
“That gave a very small window of opportunity for someone who was at the world meeting to kidnap Feli, if they took the quick way home, instead of the longer scenic route which I chose to take. Of course, if it were a human, they would have had a much easier time. However they wouldn’t have known I was at the meeting, making me think it was someone attending the meeting.” He pointed to a precisely drawn map of the surrounding area.  
“Are you sure he didn’t just wander off?” Spain suggested hopefully. Germany snorted.  
“There’s a bowl of uneaten pasta on the bench. Also there was this note.” He passed Spain a small piece of paper. On it, in typed writing it stated rather ominously, ‘don’t bother looking’.  
“You considered the uneaten pasta more of a clue than the note?” Spain queried incredulously.  
“Have you met Feliciano?” Germany countered, crunching up note in frustration.   
“We have no idea where he is, who took him, anything!” He snarled. It’s all my fault, Germany thought helplessly. I’m never there when he needs me.   
“We don’t even have eyewitness accounts!” He hissed, throwing the balled-up note at the wall.  
“All we can do is organise search parties and wait. I’ll make you a nice hot cup of tea.” Spain suggested, using this opportunity to escape into the kitchen - Germany could be terrifying when angered.

“H- hello?” Silence. He must have fallen asleep because he definitely wasn’t on the vehicle anymore. The ground was hard and flat underneath him - wood, perhaps? He couldn’t reach down to feel it; his hands were tied rather uncomfortably behind his back.  
“P-please let me go, I- I can pay you! I don’t have that much money, but if you want pasta or really good cars-” He fell silent when he heard a creak. Footsteps came nearer to him and he cringed away to be met by a wall. It was rough and scratchy, like it was made of concrete.  
“V-v-v-” He squeaked as the footsteps stopped in front of him. Clothes rustled. The smell of cedar hung in the air. CRUNCH!  
“AHHHHH!” He screamed as something slammed into his shoulder, forcefully pushing him into the wall and knocking him breathless. A sickening popping noise told him he had a dislocated shoulder. He slid onto his side, fortunately not on his injured side.  
“P-Please don’t hurt me!” He wailed, wriggling helplessly as the footsteps came closer. They stopped dangerously close to his head. He felt warm breath on his neck, and held his breath in fear. There was the sound of metal sliding on metal.  
“Now, now.” A voice purred,  
“Why would I ever do such a thing?”


	7. Chapter 7

Germany shivered, the cold evening wind chilling him to the bone. He had been walking for at least an hour. He had no idea where he was anymore. To his left was a beautiful and darkness-shrouded forest. To his right was the ocean, quietly lapping away as the first stars crawled up from the horizon. The gravel path under him crunched far too loudly, breaking the serene blanket of natural sounds. In front of him, a few metres away, was a well-crafted wooden bench, the dark brass shining slightly. With a deep sigh, he lowered himself into the seat.

All this was his fault. His companies had abandoned Italy, he’d left Feliciano alone for too long when he was sick. He’d failed to keep him safe. When he found who had taken Feli, he’d break their neck. What could possibly be their motive, anyway? The only point to kidnapping a nation would be to use them as a bartering tool for money or power…oh.   
“Another nation…?” he mumbled thoughtfully. Brrrring! The ringing of his phone surprised him and he fumbled about trying to answer the call. It was Prussia.  
“What is it, Gilbert?” He asked gruffly, finally having found his ancient iphone.  
“Get the hell over here, Lud! Greece is gone!”

“When did it happen?”  
“It could be me next!”  
“Don’t be stupid Sealand, nobody would want to kidnap someone as annoying as you.” Germany pressed his fingers into his temples and sighed. The meeting room hadn’t been big enough for all the nations including micronations, so they had split into groups to inform everyone and formulate a plan. The dilemma was a governmental crisis.   
“Alright, shut up and listen.” Germany growled at the small group of countries he had been assigned.  
“Hercules is gone, and any information you have would be useful.” Sealand put his hand up and waved it about excitedly.  
“Ludwig, mr. Ludwig, I saw a scary black car outside mr. Hercules’s house this afternoon!” He called, but was shushed by England.  
“I think it was Ivan.” China muttered suspiciously.  
“He’s been making lots more refined petroleum lately. I bet he did that to make Greece’s economy unstable, and then kidnap him!” He cried with great gusto. Russia looked rather wounded.  
“I wouldn’t do that!” He said sadly, looking like a kicked puppy. Russia looked quite healthy and strong as of late - he radiated strength and confidence even more than usual, most likely due to Greece’s instability earning him big bucks.  
“I’m surprised anyone would be able to kidnap Hercules, He’s very strong.” Antarctica piped up. He, too, looked very powerful and in tip-top condition, which Germany found somewhat unusual. Perhaps Greece’s disappearance had temporarily boosted his minor oil profits.  
“This is getting us nowhere…” Prussia muttered.  
“Alright, meeting adjourned. Everybody stay safe, We’ll organise more search parties tomorrow.” Looking around, he saw that he seemed to have misplaced his coat. Germany began to briskly walk out of the room. As he did, he passed close by Antarctica. He inhaled and smelled a strange but pleasant scent.  
Cedar.

Please don’t let it be a corpse, please don’t let it be a corpse, Italy prayed. Some time earlier - he had lost all concept of timing in his sense-deprived state - the footsteps had come back and thrown a body on him. Right on him! Not only had it frightened him half to death and made his hurt shoulder ache, but the body didn’t seem to want to wake up. So now there was a possibly-dead person about a metre to his right.  
“hggh…” A low grumble made Italy almost weep with joy.  
“You’re not dead!” He cried ecstatically.  
“Hhhh… Italy? Where am I…” It sounded like Greece.  
“I don’t know, but its cold and there’s a bad man who sometimes comes and- and-” Italy fought back tears.  
“Hey… It’ll be okay. Turkey’ll come and rough him up.” Greece said sleepily but with complete conviction.  
“Ve, I hope so…” Italy mumbled in reply, then squeaked with fear as he heard the familiar sound of footsteps. He curled himself into the tiniest ball possible, trying to block out the steps coming nearer and nearer. They stopped a short way away. Wait… that was a familiar smell, a smell of beer and comfort and vaguely of sausage.  
“Germany?” He gasped, looking about blindly, trying to work out where the reassuring scent was coming from. Somebody kneeled down in front of him. A sleeve brushed against his face. At first he flinched, but then he recognised the feeling. That was Germany’s coat, his old soldier one. The one he washed so rarely that it smelled permanently of him, much to Italy’s delight.  
“Germany, Germany, I knew you’d come save us!” He exclaimed, craning his neck out to touch the coat again. Whack! A hand viciously slapped him across the cheek. He tasted blood.  
“Germany?!”


	8. Chapter 8

“Russia has declared an alliance with Antarctica, leading to worries that Russia may become an even bigger superpower than the United States, if they haven’t done so already. Here in Moscow we have Tony McGann….” Germany flicked off the television. The current affairs of the world didn’t interest him anymore. Nothing interested him except finding Italy. It had been two days with no sign of them. The Italian and greek governments had told the nations to quote-unquote ‘fuck off and let the experts do our job’, so all Germany could do was wait. He stared at his glass of beer with disgust. Nothing tasted good anymore. Nothing tasted of anything. Everything was going to shit. With the italian and greek markets down the drain, the rest of Europe was scrabbling to help them. Russia, however, was using this chance to increase his own economic wealth. He and Antarctica were making millions right now. In Germany’s opinion, they were the most likely to be the kidnappers, although he didn’t consider Russia to be the kind of person to kidnap, and Antarctica was simply too small a country to be able to pull something off like that, right? The thought festered in his mind, however, and a few minutes later he stood up and grabbed his car keys. He was giving Antarctica a visit.

Rap! Rap! Rap! Germany knocked impatiently on the hotel room door; Antarctica had been staying near the world meeting hall to ‘be there if anything else happens.’ He had a perfect vantage point for kidnapping.  
“Hello?” The door swung open and Germany came face to face with Antarctica. Not wearing his parka for once, he was instead wearing a faded yellow t-shirt and jeans, far less formal than Germany’s somewhat rumpled pinstripe button-up.  
“If I could come in for a minute?” He asked, and was ushered in cheerfully.  
“I have some pavlova if you’d like some! New Zealand taught me how to make them!” This ebullient chatter went on for some minutes until Germany was seated at a table slowly eating (admittedly delicious) pavlova.  
“I should tell you why I came here.” Germany stated, swallowing a mouthful of meringue.   
“I think I can guess. Is it about poor Feliciano and Hercules?” Antarctica said with a sad nod.  
“You have my deepest sympathies, but i’m afraid I can’t help you with your inquiries. I wasn’t well acquainted with them.” He was so polite, Germany felt bad about doubting his innocence. He coughed awkwardly.  
“Well, if you hear anything new about them please inform me.” He said, taking a bite of cream.  
“Mm!” He said in pleasant surprise.  
“This cream tastes like it has Italy’s homemade caramel flavouring in it.” He said dreamily. Then his eyes widened. Antarctica sighed, as if he was being inconvenienced.  
“That’s my problem, you see.” Antarctica said with a smile, slowly standing up.   
“I like to always take a trophy.” Antarctica lunged at him, and the world went black.


	9. Chapter 9

When the world finally came back into focus, Germany was seated in a rather luxurious chair in an extremely luxurious room. Victorian style curtains draped the walls, and pale light shined in through decorated windows. The carpet was an aesthetically pleasing cream. A few metres in front of him the room ended with a desk and leather office chair against a white wallpaper background.  
“Ah, you’re awake.” That voice belonged to Antarctica. Germany tried to stand up but a gentle hand pushed him back down again. He turned his head to see Antarctica sitting a short ways from him in an equally lush chair and smiling at him. He spun a pistol in his left hand.  
“Welcome to my main office. It’s on Elephant Island. We slightly broke the rules to put it here, I confess, but isn’t it beautiful?” He said with a smile, gazing at the walls in admiration.  
“You must be a little confused about things… I must admit I take the blame for your companies deciding to change who they import from. I have… certain influences in some countries.”  
“Where’s Feliciano?” Germany snarled in reply.  
“Your italian friend? You may certainly see him!” Antarctica stood up, and beckoned for Germany to follow him. He was tempted to attack him, but he had been overpowered by this mysterious man once and he doubted it would be more enjoyable a second time. Upon exiting the room they entered a shiny metal hallway with powerful white lights on the ceiling at regular intervals, a huge leap from the room they had been in. Several metal doors lined a long corridor. They had labels in an unreadable language.  
“Esperanto.” Antarctica chipped in.  
“They thought it would be ‘cynically humorous’.” He said with a short laugh. Germany’s urge to snap his neck grew.  
“Ah, here he is.” Antarctica smiled, and pressed a small button on the wall to his left. A door hissed open.  
“I…. temporarily moved my other visitor for your visit. Would you like a jacket? I’m afraid I picked this up not knowing it was yours, but your italian friend identified it.” He handed Germany his old soldier’s coat, which he sulkily shrugged on. He then walked suspiciously into the room. 

It was dark, and his eyes took a short time to adjust. In the back corner, a small lump was shivering in the cold air.  
“Italy!” Germany cried, running over to him. The only reply was a horrified squeak and some quiet whimpering.   
“Feli, it’s me, Germany.” He held Italy’s shoulder and gently turned him to see his face.  
“A blindfold..?” He muttered, tugging it off.   
“Oh my god..” In the light filtering in from the open door he could see that Italy’s left eye was purple and puffy, and his right was wide open in terror. He noticed Italy’s hands were bound behind his back, and quickly untied them from the tough grey fabric.  
“Stay away from me, stay away from me!” He wailed, curling up even tighter. Germany gently touched Italy’s shoulder and Italy yelped.   
“No, per favore, not the shoulder, no, no!” It was at a slightly unnatural angle. It must be dislocated.  
“Italy. It’s me. Germany. Ludwig. Remember?” The only reply was tears.  
“What have you done to him, you monster?!” Germany roared at Antarctica, who simply smiled.  
“Fear equals power, my good friend. And, well, I had some spare time...” He replied with a smirk.  
“Have some bonding time. I’ll be back in a bit, just need to do some paperwork!” The door slammed shut, plunging Germany and Italy into almost complete darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

Italy’s mind was hazy with fear and hunger, but the man standing over him was definitely Germany. How could he have done this? Part of him refused to believe it. How could Germany, his best-ever-friend-in-the-whole-world, have attacked him so brutally over and over again?! And now he was trying to console him, as if he thought Italy didn’t know it was Germany who had hurt him. The feel of his hand as he gently touched Italy’s shoulder was enough to make Italy tremble, and his scent make him want to vomit. He closed his eyes and curled into the fetal position. A pair of hands wrapped themselves around his injured arm.  
“I’m going to set your shoulder. I’m sorry, Feli. You won’t stop wriggling and I don’t have any painkillers so i’m really sorry but...This is going to hurt.” Gr…. Thuck!  
“AAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Italy screamed, his shoulder ablaze with fresh agony. Why was Germany doing this to him?! Was it Italy’s fault? He wailed in pain, spitting out blood from his newly bitten cheek.  
“Stop! Stop!” He pleaded.   
“I’m not going to hurt you, Feli. Please look at me. I’m so sorry, this is all my fault. Feli? Please, I just want you to be safe. It’s me. Ludwig.” That deceptively emotional voice, tricking him into trusting him. Well he knew better. No matter what he did, Germany would hit him again.

Germany looked around the small room. Barely high enough for him to stand in and about three metres wide and long, an almost perfect square. It was tiny and made every breath feel like a challenge. He needed a light source… Blindly taking a few steps forward, he walked towards the dark and slightly shiny lump which he hoped was the door. His hand knocked against a knob, which he tried to turn. Locked. He then felt along the wall to the left, then the right. Aha! A light switch. It was the sort you’d associate with power switches, more a lever than a switch. It was stiff and scraped loudly as he tried to pull it down. With a loud grunt he put all his muscle into it, and finally he managed to pull it down. A small, rectangular neon light flickered on in the ceiling. Now he could see his surroundings. 

The walls were made of concrete and the ground was made of well-fitting slabs of stone. Italy’s disheveled form was the only colour in the room. As light illuminated the room, Italy tentatively put his head up and opened his right eye - his left eye wouldn’t open. Now Germany could see the full extent of his injuries. Italy’s left cheek was bruised and slightly purple, and his lips were dry and cracked. The right sleeve of his formerly-white top had been cut several times, and these cuts were surrounded by dried blood. He was thin and far too pale.  
“Oh, Feli…” He muttered, trying not to cry. This was all his fault. Every single bit of it. He walked the few steps it took to get to Italy and crouched beside him.  
“I’m so so sorry, Feli.” He mumbled. He shrugged off his jacket and gently lay it on Italy’s shivering form, which seemed to make him tremble more. Without any means of keeping time, Germany had no idea how long they were in there. Eventually a loud creak signified that the door had been opened.


	11. Chapter 11

“Alright, bonding time over. Ludwig, my friend, be a friend and bring Feliciano?” Antarctica’s lilting voice asked politely.  
“I may have to give him some….. encouragement otherwise.” Germany growled in reply. With a heavy sigh he carefully pushed Italy into a sitting opposition and put his coat on him properly. This was a hard task, with Italy squirming and wriggling. When he had finally got him in the coat, he gently picked him up in a bridal hold. Italy’s small quivering body was so light in his arms….  
“Do follow me, thats a good dear.” Germany would have done anything to punch Antarctica in the teeth just then. He obediently walked out of the room and into the harsh light, angling his body to keep Italy as far away from Antarctica as possible.  
“It’s just this way. We have a few legal matters to settle.” Antarctica said with a smile.  
“Fuck you.” Germany replied. 

At the end of the hall was a large set of double doors, which Antarctica pushed open with a grin. Inside it was lavish just like the office Germany had woken up in, a stark contrast to the hallway. Inside was a large wooden table surrounded by chairs, three of which were seated. New Zealand sat closest to them, with a look of concern on his face. Russia sat a seat down, knitting and humming quietly. Last of all, Greece sat nearly at the end of the table, looking defiant with his burly arms crossed.  
“Italy- why is he hurt like that?” New Zealand asked, with wide eyes.  
“Hush for a moment, Ao’.” Antarctica said with a smile, and gestured for Germany to take a seat. He did with a glare, putting Italy in the seat next to him. Italy instantly curled up in the seat, hugging his knees and hiding his head behind his legs.  
“I’m afraid I haven’t been quiet straight with you, Ao’.” Antarctica said in an apologetic tone.  
“Unfortunately we don’t have time for that. I see you continue to refuse to sign, Hercules.” All eyes turned to Greece, who stubbornly stared in front of him, ignoring the pen and piece of paper in front of him.  
“I’m afraid if you don’t sign that, Italy will have to.” Antarctica pointed out. Greece made a ‘hh’ noise.  
“I want to talk to Turkey.” He said calmly. Antarctica thought for a moment, shrugged and handed him a phone from his pocket. Greece slowly and deliberately tapped out a number, and held the phone to his ear.  
“.........Hello?” He mumbled quietly, picking up the pen.  
“It’s me, Hercules.” He slowly drew a swirly ‘H’.  
“I’m fine. Stop yelling.” ‘E’.  
“I’m calling you to… No, I’m fine! Really.” ‘R’.  
“I called to say I love you.” ‘C’.  
“No, don’t be ridiculous.” ‘U’.  
“Yes, I’ll be home soon.” ‘L’.  
“Yeah, I know.” ‘E’.  
“I love you too. Bye.” Germany craned his neck to read the sheet of paper. He could only make out the first sentence. ‘I hereby declare all land and material objects of the state of my country to be handed to the sovereign state of Antarctica, and the’. Germany gasped. ‘S’.

Hercules pressed the ‘end call’ button on the phone.   
“Maybe I’ll come back as a Cat.” He said thoughtfully. He looked at his own hand. It was slightly see-through. As Germany watched in horror, Hercules slowly faded away. A look of sadness was in Greece’s eyes - then he was no more.


	12. Chapter 12

“G-G-Greece?” New Zealand stammered.  
“Where did he go? What did you do?! I want to go home!” He cried, standing up and pushing his chair away from the table. Wordlessly Russia reached out an arm and forcefully pushed him back into his seat.  
“You son of a bitch!” Germany yelled at Russia, his blood boiling with fury.  
“Don’t you want to go home as well?!” New Zealand cried.  
“I must stay and keep baltics from harm.” Russia mumbled sadly. Antarctica smiled.  
“I already feel so much more powerful…” He said with a smile.  
“You fucking murderer! I’ll beat your fuckin’ ass senseless and truss you up in wire like a fuckin’ turkey!” New Zealand roared angrily, slamming his fist on the wooden table.  
“I’m sure you will.” Antarctica muttered condescendingly. He smiled coldly.  
“And so the country of Pangaea grows.”

“Russia, please, can’t you see that Feliciano needs medical attention?” Germany pleaded as he was marched back to the tiny cell. Russia stared forward wordlessly.  
“Can’t you even send a message to Prussia?” He asked, feeling the soft drumbeat of Italy’s heartbeat as he quavered and whimpered in his arms. Russia grunted.  
“Two words.” He conceded. Germany’s mind raced. He knew Russia wouldn’t send something as obvious as ‘Elephant Island’. He needed to be more cryptic..  
“Ernest Shackleton.” He told Russia, who nodded slightly.  
“I should not help you - I must keep baltics safe… But I will get message to Prussia.” He said quietly, then shoved Germany into the cell and slammed the door shut. Germany stumbled forward and slammed his shoulder into the wall facing the door, keeping the impact off Italy.  
“It’s alright, Feliciano. It’ll be alright.” He said soothingly, putting Italy on the ground. His coat dwarfed the italian, who burrowed underneath it as if he was trying to hide.

Italy had never been more terrified. Greece was gone and he was undoubtedly next. Was hurting him not enough? They wanted to kill him? Germany wanted to kill him? The very thought was enough to make him cry, even though he’d been crying nearly nonstop for who-knows-how-many days. The sound of ripping fabric surprised him and he squeaked.  
“It’s alright, I’m just going to bandage some of those cuts. I don’t want them to get infected.” Steady hands began to carefully wrap fabric around Italy’s arm, causing him to wince in pain.  
“Please don’t hurt me, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry!” He stammered. What had he done to make Germany hate him? Had he not done the dishes one too many times? Did Germany…. not want him anymore? Italy wanted to cry again, but no more tears came.  
“Oh, Feli…” Strong arms enveloped him in a hug. He wanted to scream and cry in fear but they were so welcoming, so calming… A gentle kiss was placed on his forehead.  
“I would never hurt you.” Italy looked up into Germany’s eyes.  
“Why did you hit me then?” He croaked with a trembling lip.  
“That wasn’t me! That was Antarctica!” Germany insisted with a frown.  
“But- but it was your coat! You know, the stinky one you never wash.” Italy mumbled.  
“That bastard, he tricked you with my coat…” Germany muttered. Italy sniffled. How could he have been so stupid and gullible? He was a pathetic excuse of a country...  
“Ti amo..” He sobbed, relaxing into the hug.  
“I’m so glad you’re here, Ludwig.”


	13. Chapter 13

Germany and Italy sat there for who knows how long, the hours merging together and slipping away with no indication of time passing. Eventually they fell asleep, Italy’s head resting against Germany’s shoulder. 

“Get up. Now.” Antarctica’s voice was furious and loud. Someone grabbed Germany’s arm and forcefully pulled him to his feet. This woke him up fully, and he saw that it was Russia who was prodding him forward. Germany reached out and grasped Italy’s hand.  
“Ve?” He mumbled blearily, trotting after Germany.  
“Hurry up.” Antarctica growled.  
“We’ve had a…. unfortunate happenstance. Someone managed to locate our base, and those ‘allies’ as you call them have decided to make it their business.” Germany almost cried with happiness. So Prussia understood their message - or, more likely, told the allies and England understood. No matter. Now they would be saved, and Antarctica would be at the mercy of the strongest nations in the world.   
“You must have known you’d never get away with a plan as ludicrous as this.” Germany fought to keep a smug grin off his face.  
“Ludwig, my friend, this is only the beginning.” Antarctica replied, having regained his calm demeanor.  
“We will be leaving by plane, Ivan and I. As for you two and New Zealand… well..” Antarctica smirked.  
“We don’t want any witnesses, do we?”

“If you hurt a single fucking hair on Feliciano’s head, I swear to god i’ll-” Germany was cut off mid-sentence by Antarctica’s loud cackling.  
“Ludwig, my friend, as if you could stop me!” Before Germany could react, Italy’s arm was pulled from his grasp.  
“FELI!” He yelled helplessly as Russia restrained him.  
“I am sorry..” Russia whispered.  
“I’ll make sure to give him an extra-special treatment.” Antarctica sang.  
“Ludwig! LUDWIG!” Italy’s desperate cries became fainter and fainter as Antarctica dragged him away like a mother with a naughty child.

“Don’t do this, Ivan. Please.” Germany begged as Russia pushed him forward. A few metres in front of him in the huge warehouse-type room they were in was a massive metal garage-type roller door, easily big enough to fit the largest of trucks through.  
“Together we can stop Antarctica from trying to expand ‘Pangaea’! Please!” His pleas fell on deaf ears. Russia slammed his palm down on a button on the wall to his right. A small door slid open, and New Zealand stumbled out, his hands bound behind his back. Ivan pulled him to his feet.  
“Mate, get your mitts off me!” New Zealand growled.  
“I am sorry, my friends. I really am.” Russia muttered, reaching out and pulling down a lever on the wall. The huge door began to open. Instantly massive gusts of wind threatened to push the nations off their feet, and the sound of rumbling was deafening. Germany lunged at the lever, but was easily pushed aside by Russia.   
“Goodbye, friends!” Russia yelled, and with an almighty push shoved both Germany and New Zealand into the freezing snow.   
“NO!” Germany roared, but the door was already sliding shut.


	14. Chapter 14

“Feliciano, such a sweet name. Means ‘happy’, doesn’t it?” Italy refused to answer Antarctica’s calm comments. They were in the room again, the one Italy had grown to hate.   
“Tell me, Feliciano, what is it that you value most in the world?” Antarctica asked.  
“Pasta, perhaps? Money?” He smirked.  
“Oh, I know what you value most. It’s Ludwig, isn’t it?” Italy bit back a sob.  
“Well, I just thought you should know… he’s dead. Russia has killed him by now.” Italy’s eyes widened.  
“N-n-no-” He stammered in shock. Antarctica smiled. He slipped his left hand into the interior of his jacket, and leisurely pulled out a hunting knife.  
“I’m afraid so, Feliciano.” Dead? No, he can’t be dead. He’s everything. He’s the world. Without Ludwig… There’s no reason to live. THUCK! Hot, fiery pain blossomed in Italy’s left arm. He couldn’t hold back his scream. He fell to his knees, clutching his arm.  
“And now to carve out your heart… a sweet little gift for your ‘allies’.” Antarctica pulled the knife out, triggering another scream from Italy. He glanced at his watch.  
“Oh, fuck.” He muttered.  
“Well, you’ll die of blood loss anyway.. Gotta run, Feli. See you never.” He plunged the knife into Italy’s left leg. Italy’s vision was too blurred with pain to see Antarctica leave.

“FUCKIN’ HELL, IT’S FREEZING!” New Zealand yelled over the gale. Germany was slamming his fists into the door again and again. He could feel the cold to his bones - they would soon get frostbite. As nations, they were somewhat resistant to the cold and heat, but it was insanity to go out into the antarctic without proper clothing.  
“UNTIE ME, WOULD YOU?” New Zealand called.  
“I THINK I STILL HAVE MY PHONE IN MY POCKET!” This caught Germany’s attention. He stumbled through the snow, squinting against the wind. He fumbled about trying to untie New Zealand for a while before his fingers managed to get a grip. He quickly unbound New Zealand, who instantly plunged his hands into his pockets.  
“SWEET!” He held up a phone triumphantly, which he then turned on and began furiously tapping a number into.  
“........ ARTHUR!” He yelled into the phone.  
“FUCKIN’ HELL, IT’S ME, AO’!”  
“WELL HURRY THE FUCK UP, WE’RE LITERALLY FREEZING TO DEATH AND THAT ANTARCTICA ASSHOLE HAS ITALY!” He roared into the phone. He waited, then looked at it in disgust.  
“Lost the fucking signal!” He grunted in disgust. Germany looked at his hands. They were tinged purple. I’m sorry, Feli. He thought with a sigh. I failed.


	15. Chapter 15

Of all places in the world to die, Elephant Island certainly wasn’t the best on the list. As Italy lay crying on the floor, he thought of Germany. It was his fault Germany was dead. Germany. Dead. Those words didn’t belong in a sentence together. It was impossible, unthinkable - Ludwig, the man he loved more than anything else, dead? Not possible. Yet dead he was, dead because of an evil sadist who wanted to take over the world. Italy tried to stand, but the pain was too great. Maybe if he just lay here, the pain would go away.   
“Germany, Germany, Germany is a really really nice place…” He sang quietly, each breath a struggle.  
“Even though i’m your prisoner, you give me food.. and it doesn’t suck like english food…” He coughed, his whole body racked with pain.  
“Sausages with cheeses always taste so good.. For a Dog, its heaven - that’s Germany.” It was heaven for him too. It used to be.  
“Tell me…. How are germans so robust…?” At this point he could see his vision beginning to tunnel.  
“You’re……. crushing me…. with your……….. intimidation…” He closed his eyes. He didn’t have the strength to continue singing. Instead he hummed with every ragged breath he took.   
“Oh my god…. Alfred, I’ve found Feli! Help me get him onto a stretcher!” Italy smiled. Phantom voices… Sounded like England.  
“My fra….fragil…...ity….. causes… me to….. open-en-ly…. w…..” He mumbled. Something poked into his side. It felt like a needle.   
“Italy, mon ami, can you hear me?”   
“W….weep out of….. f…...fear…..”  
“Get him to the plane!”  
“Your women…… terri….fy me…. Germany….”


	16. Chapter 16

A flash of metal, the sound of laughter. Oh god, he’s going to hurt me again. I can’t move, I can only watch as he approaches. That teasing smile, that malicious look in his eyes…  
“Feli…” He calls.  
“Feli..”

“Feli, you awake?” Italy coughed violently. He could hear beeps and quiet murmuring. He slowly opened his eyes. He was in a hospital bed, in a clean and mostly white room. A UV drip stood beside him, and Romano’s face hovered nervously above him.  
“Oh my god, Feli, you’re okay…” Romano sighed, hugging him tightly.  
“Ve….. where am I?” Italy asked, looking around nervously. He looked down at himself. His right arm was neatly bandaged in light cloth, and his left arm was in a sling. His stab wounds were also cleanly bandaged.  
“You’re in hospital, idiot.” Romano replied with an emotional sniffle.  
“Those allied bastards found you on Elephant Island in this big metal building in really bad shape. You were muttering and shivering and god I’m so glad you’re okay! This is the first time you’ve woken up without spouting nonsense and thrashing about like a maniac...” He tried to hold back tears.  
“Stupid fratello, I was so worried…” Romano grumbled. Italy smiled sadly.  
“Is New Zealand okay?” He asked. Romano eyed him curiously.  
“He’s fine, just a little frostbitten. Why aren’t you asking about sausage idiot?” He asked. Italy stifled a sob.  
“Isn’t he dead?! Like… like g-gr-” He blubbed, wiping tears off his cheeks.  
“No way! I mean, he looks like absolute shit, but he’ll be okay.” Romano replied.  
“Where is he!?” Italy cried.  
“Calm down, he’s in the adjoining room. I guess it’d be okay for me to take you over there.” Italy squirmed out of the bed covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He put his feet on the ground - and nearly fell forward onto his face.  
“This is why there’s a wheelchair next to your bed, stupido. Hold on, let me get you in it and wheel the UV drip..” Romano grumbled. With herculean effort Romano managed to get Italy into the chair. Soon they were outside the room.  
“You sure you’re ready for this?” Romano muttered. Italy nodded firmly. Ludwig...

A heart monitor beeped monotonously beside a clean bed. Prussia sat reading a book beside it. When Italy and Romano entered the room he jumped up and gave Italy a gentle hug.  
“Pasta man, you’re okay!” He cried happily. He whipped out a phone and began to dial somebody.  
“I promised i’d tell Al when you woke up..” He explained then walked a few metres away to chat animatedly into his phone.  
“Ludwig..” Italy mumbled, looking at the person in the bed. Germany’s stoic face was twisted into an uncomfortable grimace. He was shivering slightly. His nose was red, and his fingers were an unsettlingly pale shade. Romano wheeled Italy forward so that he was right next to the bed. He reached out and touched Germany’s shoulder gently, then put his head on the bed and draped his right arm over the sleeping german.  
“I’m gonna go get a coffee..” Romano patted Italy’s shoulder gently, and quietly escaped from the room. Italy sighed, feeling Germany’s muscular figure rising and falling as he breathed.  
“I’m so glad you’re okay..”


	17. Chapter 17

“Look, he’s waking up!”  
“Shhh, you’ll disturb Feliciano!” Germany groaned. His body ached, and his throat felt like it was on fire. He forced his eyes open. America’s face was directly in front of him.  
“Dude!” Germany flinched.  
“Oh, sorry.” America leaned back, and Germany could see all the allies (except Russia) and Japan hovering around him. He could feel a small weight on his chest. He looked to his right and saw Italy leaning on the side of the bed, fast asleep with an arm over him. He rubbed his nose and looked up at England.  
“What happened?” He asked blearily.  
“We got a message from Russia - ‘Ernest Shackleton’, of all things. I immediately understood it meant Elephant Island, so we rushed over there and found a big military-type base. We found you and New Zealand outside, my good fellow.” England explained, tutting and fiddling with his watch.  
“I am very glad that you are alright.” Japan quietly interjected.  
“What happened to Antarctica and Russia?” Germany demanded. America grinned.  
“I shot down their plane in the most epic dog-fight since the beginning of time!” He cried, and England snorted.  
“You demanded they set their plane down and they did so willingly, probably because of the missiles you were carrying.” England muttered, but America ignored him.  
“Antarctica’s under house arrest until he can be put on trial, but his country doesn’t exist anymore.” America told him.  
“Greece might even come back!” Germany nodded thoughtfully.  
“And Russia?” He asked. China mumbled something.  
“Well, we, ah, found the baltics under lock and key in Antarctica’s base, so it is assumed that Russia did what he did under emotional blackmail threats. He will still go to trial, but I think his self-inflicted punishment is worse than what any judge can give him…” France said with a sigh.  
“hgghhhmn…..ve…” Germany looked at Italy to see his hazel eyes staring right into his.  
“Feliciano..” He breathed.  
“Ludwig!” Italy cried, trying to stop the tears that had overcome him.  
“I’m so glad you’re okay and everything was bad but I knew you’d be okay because I love you so much and without you-” Germany hushed him with a kiss on the nose (which took some effort with Italy being low down in a wheelchair). The other countries in the room quickly excused themselves. (a ‘gross!’ was heard from America, and some ‘honhonhon’-ing from France as they left.)

“Germany, what happened to you?” Italy sniffled in distress.  
“I’m alright, you don’t need to worry.” Germany said soothingly, stroking Italy’s head calmingly.  
“It’s all over and Antarctica can’t hurt you anymore.” He kissed Italy’s nose again. Italy made a snuffling noise and buried his face in the bedsheets.  
“Ti amo, Ludwig...”  
“Ich Liebe dich, Feli.”


End file.
